


Trust in Me

by paperjamBipper



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Experimental Style, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, I promise it's happier than the tags make it seem, POV Second Person, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperjamBipper/pseuds/paperjamBipper
Summary: You've always had trust issues. In this world, it's all for one and none for all.Or, at least you thought it was, until Jesse came along.~~A close look into Lake's mind throughout season two and afterwards
Relationships: Jesse Cosay/Lake
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	Trust in Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, fun fact! This piece was originally meant for a zine that I'd applied for, but I never heard back from them, so I just assumed that it...wasn't happening anymore? Never even got a "sorry, we went with someone else/we're full" email back from any of the administrators. Oh well.
> 
> I've always had a soft-spot for fics written in a second person perspective. It's hard to write well, but some of my favorite fics I've ever read were second person fics. I've always found them so in-tune with the characters' and reader's emotions. I hope I did it justice, because I love Jesse and Lake an unhealthy amount.

You’ve always had trust issues.

Yeah, yeah, you know how edgy that sounds when you say it out loud. But you don’t mean it in the same way as those narcissistic teenage boys who call themselves lone wolves and act like an ass to everyone they meet for no reason. 

You don’t have a choice. If you were naturally the approachable type with groups of friends in the double digits, you’d be just as happy. You’ve never told anyone, but if you’re going to be honest with yourself, you think you’d actually be happier that way. But it’s not, and it’s entirely because you know you can’t.

Everyone who takes a good look at you for longer than, say, a quick glance, automatically assumes two things about you. One, that you’re going to hurt them if they approach you, and two, that you’re a fugitive. And while there _are_ the passive few who would rather not get involved at all, because they don’t want the Flecs to take them in beside you (even though that’s not how it works at all), most of them report you on sight. The worst of them will grab the closest reflective surface they can find and shove it in your face. Which is _never_ fair, because all you’ve done since Tulip set you free is aimlessly wander around the train.

As a matter of fact, you don’t even trust _Tulip_ that much. You’re sure that part of it is still because you’re holding a grudge against her for being forced to live as her reflection for thirteen years, which, okay, she couldn’t control. But it took you _breaking down sobbing_ in front of her for Tulip to agree to help you at all, and that was _already_ after one of her friends had called the Flecs on you. 

You’re never just _you._ You’re a copy, you’re a reflection, you’re a criminal, you’re a _sliver._ Nobody ever gives you enough time to even ask you for your name, let alone give you enough time to even think of one. You’re not a person, you’re a mistake. Nobody cares about you, and if you need to shut everyone else out just to keep yourself alive, then so be it. If it’s gotta be all for one, then it’s gotta be none for all, because nobody cares about you. 

Or so you thought.

Jesse Cosay changed your life in ways that you can’t describe. Yeah, okay, he never called the Flecs on you, and even when he had the chance to turn you in he refused (and actually listened to your story _before_ he made that decision, _Tulip),_ but that’s not what you’re talking about. 

Anyone can be a good person. Anyone can just say “no, that’s awful, I’m not just gonna turn her in”. Most of the passengers on the train probably would’ve said the same thing, if they thought that helping you escape could help lower their number. Jesse was willing to help at the expense of his number going _up,_ but that’s still beside the point. 

He’s the first person to actually _listen_ to you. He’s a chatterbox for sure, but he genuinely hangs on to what you have to say. 

“I’m MT,” you’d told him when you first met. It’s the first real name you’ve ever given yourself, and you still kind of hated it, all things considering, but the more times he said it and the more enthusiastic he sounded when he used it, the less you started to hate it.

But the less you started hating your name, the more you realized how fleeting all of this is going to be. 

The more comfortable you let yourself become, you realize, the quicker it’ll all be taken from you. Once Jesse’s number hits zero, you’re right back where you started. You’ll be stripped of your name, since nobody will give you the time of day to listen for it. You’ll be a copy, a reflection, a sliver. 

You try not to let it bother you, because you already know what’s going to happen if you do. That’s how Tulip ended up on the train to begin with, by pretending that she wasn’t bothered by her parents separating. _I’m fine!_ She’d claimed, but the longer she tried to convince herself she was okay, the less and less she spoke to her own best friend.

And, well, maybe it’s a bit premature to call for sure, and you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it if you ever said it out loud, but Jesse’s the closest thing you’ve got to a best friend. If you stop talking to him a few days before you’re never gonna see him again, you’re _both_ gonna be miserable, which is just going to make matters so much worse. 

You bury the feeling down, take your anger and frustration out on the Flecs, and that disgusting parasite, and pray Jesse doesn’t notice.

But Jesse “I’m friends with everyone I meet” Cosay notices right away, and he says the words you never expected to hear from _anybody._

“I’m not just gonna leave you here with the Flecs chasing after you”.

Not “oh, I’ll _try”,_ or a sympathetic hug, or a teary-eyed premature goodbye hug as everything’s just hitting him for the first time. “I _won’t”,_ he promises, like he’s been planning this since the first time they encountered the Flecs in the Map Car. 

He wants you to come with him. It’s not a fun hypothetical to imagine to pass the time, like all of his mirror questions had been. It’s a demand, rather than a question, because he knows that you’ll be miserable if you stay.

Your cheeks burn, and you’re speechless.

* * *

You regret nothing, you tell yourself, as tears pour down your cheeks. You’re covered in dirt and mud and every equivalent of blood you can think of, but you regret none of it as you swing your crowbar at steward after steward. You don’t care anymore, you tell yourself. You don’t care if you have to take the damn train apart gear by gear. 

You already lost Jesse, and when the damned train still wouldn’t give you a number after _everything,_ after you’re sure you’ve gone through more trauma than all of the passengers combined, there went your hope. And you’re not the kind of person who feels sad and gloomy when you’re feeling hopeless, oh no. You get _angry._ You get _pissed._ You run into the next room, guns blazing, ready to kick the shit out of the next person who even looks at you the wrong way.

Hope and positivity are a rarity for you, so when it’s forcefully ripped from your hands, you’ll do everything in your power to take it back _twice_ as forcefully. It’s embarrassing, really, that you’re an angry crier, because you really need these sons of bitches to know that you’re paying them back tenfold. 

You never fully understood what people meant by blind rage until you do right now. You just keep swinging, and swinging, since nobody’s paying attention to you anyway. _Someone’s_ gotta cave eventually, right? Destructive behavior is a sure-fire symptom of trauma, isn’t it? Someone’s gonna come by and realize you’re acting out of hurt, and give you some random number so you can work out your problems and eventually get out of here, right? 

Well, you’re half-right. 

“Hello!” One-One chimes, eerily cheery for the situation at hand. “Please stop destroying my stewards”. 

“Unless you want me to write up your obituary”, his gloomy counterpart chimes in.

And...threat aside, a tiny part of you is relieved. He’s Tulip’s friend, so there’s a chance he’ll understand, right? All you need to do is just explain everything, and you’ll be free to go, right?

You couldn’t be more wrong. He’s just babbling on about how you’re just there to help, how you were never really Jesse’s friend, and you’re close to crying again. You want to believe it’s out of anger, because you know that can’t be true, but you’re too burned out on anger and too exhausted to really fully convince yourself of anything.

Until One-One pulls up his list of passengers, and just two little words on his screen are enough to make your heart stop. 

_In-Progress._

_Jesse Cosay: In Progress._

If One-One is talking to you at all on the way over to the Tape Car, you can’t hear a word he’s saying. Your heart is beating so hard in your chest that it’s making your ears ring, and as One-One carries Jesse back to the Number Car, you’re pretty sure you’re _actually_ vibrating, because you can’t believe this is actually happening. 

It’s an indescribable feeling, knowing that he cares about you. It’s indescribable, knowing he doesn’t take the word _promise_ for granted. 

He came _back_ for you. 

He _literally_ went through hell and back, just to spend more time with you.

Now you feel like crying for an entirely new reason.

* * *

Jesse Cosay is something else. 

You’ve been living with him for six months now, and he _still_ insists on making every day a new experience for you. “Fourteen years on a train is _nothing_ compared to four months off of it!” he’d exclaimed exasperatedly when you asked him about it. That’s not how it works, but you never argued against it.

It’s a sweet gesture. He’s gone out of his way to make you as happy as he possibly can ever since you broke down sobbing the first day you were off the train. You were able to wait until Nate went back home, thank god, but it was the ugly, uncontrollable kind of sobbing that overpowers your body so much that you end up sprawled across the ground looking like a complete and utter fool because you’re too overwhelmed. You’re still not entirely sure if you were overwhelmed in a good way, or overwhelmed in a bad way, but you remember pretty clearly the way Jesse held you in his arms and helped you to your feet when you were ready. 

You hadn’t even told him what happened yet, but he was already promising you that you’re safe, it’s never going to happen, and that he’s personally going to make sure that your experience in Arizona is a significantly better one than the one you had on the train. That made you laugh, because literally anything would be better than what you went through on that train, but you know that he meant it.

You told him, later that night, and for the second time that day he held you in his arms as you shook and focused on nothing else but steadying your breathing. He didn’t say a single word unless you prompted him to, or he wanted to ask a question in the _shyest_ tone of voice you’ve ever heard. It made you laugh, every single time, and you had to lightly tap on his wrist every time to silently tell him _It’s okay, I’m laughing,_ and _no, it’s not a stupid question._

It’s….adorable, how much he cares about you. And not at all in a sarcastic kind of way, either. He’s got this really sheepish smile, and he’s always brushing his hair out of the way, and when he hugs you to comfort you he touches you really lightly like he’s afraid you’re going to flinch even though he _already_ verbally asked if it’s okay to hug you. It makes you laugh, when you think about it too much, and you’re painfully aware of the blush on your cheeks that accompany your laughter. 

You can’t help yourself. He’s so goofy, and chatty, and cheerful, and friendly, and _so_ the exact opposite as yourself from when you first met. But he’s so sweet, and honest, and caring, and... _trusting._ He trusts _so_ easily, and where you would’ve rolled your eyes in his direction less than a year ago, it’s your favorite thing about him today, because you don’t know where you’d be today if it weren’t for his trust in you. 

You’re not great at expressing your feelings. You’ve always known that about yourself. You suppose that’s probably the trauma talking, because if you’d even dared to express yourself to anyone on the train you’d be a pile of sand by the next morning. But you’ve been stewing in your feelings for Jesse for nearly two months, and you’re not sure how much longer you can take keeping it in. When you come from a place that always valued telling the truth, even if it was difficult, it’s a hard habit to break. 

Okay, that’s not a hundred percent true. A few nights into your stay at Jesse’s place, you stumbled down the stairs in a fit of insomnia looking for a cup of water just to try and see if walking up and down the stairs would tire you out. Jesse’s mom was in the living room watching television, and you paused, unsure of whether you should keep going or if you should sneak back up the stairs and try again in an hour. 

“Oh, hello, Lake”, she said, turning from her seat on the couch to face you. Well, that answered your question. “Is something wrong?”

You scratched at the back of your head as you made your way towards the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep,” you replied, digging through the cupboard looking for a clean cup. 

Mrs. Cosay patted at the couch beside her. “Oh, well you’re free to join me on the couch and see if my boring old movie helps to put you to sleep”. 

You snorted at the idea, but figured it was probably a better idea than jogging up and down the stairs to tire yourself out. 

You don’t remember the title of the movie now, but you do remember that it was some rom-com from the 80’s, since Tulip was never interested in those. Which, of course, was exactly the reason you wanted to check it out. 

Spite really is the best motivator, you’d told yourself, but you ended up enjoying the movie a lot more than you thought you did. You’d tried watching a few other movies like it, just to see if Mrs. Cosay had just been watching a particularly interesting movie, but it turns out that no, you just really have a soft spot for romantic comedies. Maybe especially the _really_ cheesy ones set to pop music from the early 2000’s. You’d deny it for sure if you were ever asked about it, but it was...interesting, to learn that kind of thing about yourself. 

Tulip had never really been one for relationships, and here you were, living with your best friend, a class-A example of those soulmate AU fanfictions you definitely haven’t read. It’s not that you necessarily believe in soulmates, or anything, it’s just that you’re well aware that you experience a lot of….feelings, when you read them.

You’ve wanted to tell Jesse how you feel about him all week. Ever since his school let out for the summer, he’s been in an even _cheerier_ mood than usual, and every time he directs that smile in your direction you swear you just want to pull him into your lap and kiss him.

But every time you get close to confessing, you freeze. Your ingrained trust issues always stop you in your tracks. _If he says no, your friendship will be ruined and you can’t live there anymore. If he says yes and then you break up, you won’t be friends anymore. If if if if._

You hate that word. _If._ You wished it wouldn’t exist, or at the very least, that it would stop repeating itself on loop in your head. You shouldn’t _need_ that word, because you know that Jesse is different. You know that things are going to be okay. 

You _trust_ him. You trust that you’ll be okay.

* * *

He said he wants to surprise you today. The way he’s practically bouncing up and down on his feet and pacing back and forth while he’s waiting for you to lace up your boots makes it seem like he’s about to take you on the most extravagant adventure you’ve ever been on. You’re laughing again, and pause to lace your boots up even _slower,_ just for the sake of his exasperated reaction. 

You flick him in the forehead, for good measure, and you’re out the door. He insists on walking, for the ~element of surprise~ , which, okay, has got to be the cutest, _dorkiest_ thing he’s ever done. He swears it’s not a walk, but it’s not like it makes a difference to you. You’re walking side by side, and your hands are almost touching, and part of you is wondering if it’s purposeful on his part.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking when Jesse stops in front of….an ice cream parlor.

“Surprise!” he beams. “One of my friends from school works here, and he was just telling me they restocked last night before closing, so we can get _any_ ice cream you want”.

You honestly don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re the reason his family keeps running out of ice cream and that this will not, in fact, be your first experience eating the miracle of ice cream, or whatever. You settle for rolling your eyes, hoping that he won’t take your silence for a no. 

Actually, speaking of silence, there’s nobody else here yet, and if you’ve learned anything from all of those dumb movies, there’s really no better time to just _go for it_ then when you’re alone.

“Jesse, wait” you say, reaching out to take his hand in your own just before he can head up to the counter to order. “We should talk”.

“Yeah?” Jesse replies, turning to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah”, you say, bringing your hands up to eye level. “Everything’s great. I just...wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you, Jesse”. 

He grins, and you swear to god it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “Aww, you’re my best friend too!” 

Your heart jumps in your chest. You take a few subtle steps closer, and hope he notices. He does, but doesn’t take a step back. Okay, that’s a good sign. “No, Jesse, I mean…” you pause, and the little devil on your shoulder is whispering all the things that can go wrong again. You shake your head, to clear those thoughts, and when you look up to meet his eyes again your foreheads are practically touching. 

“I…” you start, and he can tell that you’re getting anxious, because he’s placing his free hand on top of yours.

“You…?” he asks quietly, his head tilting quietly to the side. 

You take a deep breath. “Jesse...I trust you”. 

And all of a sudden you want to curl up and die. You hadn’t meant to say _trust._ You had meant to say something else, but you were too busy arguing against yourself that you didn’t realize it until it was already out of your mouth. You want to backtrack, you want to apologize, you want to take it back, but you can’t, because if you try to take it back then it’s just gonna sound like you don’t actually trust him, or- 

Jesse cups a hand to your cheek, startling you back into reality. He’s smiling, but not as exuberantly as he had been earlier. 

“I trust you too,” he says, and leans forward to gently kiss you on the cheek. 


End file.
